Max Learns How to Cook?
by mizuki.monique
Summary: Max tries to learn how to cook! Need a few laughs? Click here. No flames please. Constructive critism is accepted
1. Chapter 1

I woke up early, tied my hair back and stomped determinely into the kitchen. I was going to ask Iggy to help me do something drastic and stupid. Some people may even say suicidal. But I need his help. He was best at this.

"Hello Iggy," I tried to say in a casual tone. He was chopping tomatos for the salsa he was making. And to the naked ear it probably did sound like casual tone. But Iggy's ear wasn't average. He immediately stiffened. And his expression turned suspicious.

"Whats up Max?" He said in the same casual tone. By now, you may be wondering what's so dangerously stupid. Knowing Iggy, he'd probably do anything for me. We're family. But this may be a little too far. Would he take a stab in the arm for me. Definitely. Would he fight an army of erasers, already knowing he was going to lose for me? Maybe. But what I was going to ask, the chances of him saying yes are close to never.

"Iggy," I sighed, trying to carefully pick out the words. "I. Want. To," I took a deep breath again, dangerously close to hyperventilating. "Learnhowtocook," I said the last few words in a blur. We both froze for an excruciatingly long second, while he digested what I just said. Then he unexpectedly lunged at me. In about half a second I was pinned to the floor with Iggy's tomato knife at my neck.

"Crap, Iggy! What the heck?"

"Nice try, but I'm not falling for the whole Max clone thing again,"

"I am not a clone!" I hissed. He stared at me in disbelief then he shook his head.

"ANGEL!" He yelled so loud I wanted to protect my ears. Angel stumbled into the kitchen, bedraggled.

"What?"

"Help me pin this down?"

She started to ask why, but then she read Iggy's mind. Then mine. She sighed.

"She's not a clone, Iggy. That's the real Max,"

"But-but. She wanted to learn how to cook." Angel let out a choked gasp.

"She's Max alright, but I don't want to be within a ten-mile radius of her cooking,"

"I'm not going to teach her!" He said, taking the knife off my neck and helping me up.

"Please, please, please!" I begged, desperation in my eyes. His eyes widened a fraction bigger, which I didn't even thing was possible.

"Did you just beg?" He gasped. I never begged for anything in my life. Not verbally anyway. Begging was beneth me (usually), a sign of weakness. I was just as suprised as he was. Maybe now he would teach me...


	2. First Lesson

"Okay, Max, what is this?" Iggy asks for the umpteenth time. He was holding some sort of bowl with a bunch of holes in it.

"Um, no don't say it! It's a calendar!"

"Colander" He corrected, shaking his head.

"Calender, colander, who cares?" I asked exasparated.

"I want you to know your tools before you attempt to use them,"

"Who's cares whether I call it colander or bowl- with-holes thing. Or whether I call it a ludel or a big spoon,"

"It's ladel," He said, ignoring everything I said except for my mispronounciation. I groaned. Then he started going off on the history of kitchen utensils. I would say something except for the fact he was helping me, which of course is saying a lot. We would get to cooking eventually. Why the sudden interest? Probably because Iggy wouldn't let me make ice. And guess what? Our refridgerator has a freaking ice maker! All I have to do is press a button, but apparently I don't have enough culinary genius for that. I tried not to show my annoyance, I really did. But he was going on about the history of utensils.

Now he was baking a cake, and carefully explaining every single detail. He was blending all the wet ingredients together with one of those hand blender thingys and I asked if I could try. He eyed me cautiously.

"Iggy! I know 19 different ways to kill an Eraser! I have the coordination to put a golf ball into the eye of a needle! I think I can handle mixing egg yolks and flour!" I yelled out of frustration. He handed me the blender. And just because fate hates me, the moment I lower the blender into the mixture everything splattered everywhere. And I mean everywhere. To the granite kitchen counter to the baby blue painted ceiling and yes, Iggy and I. I burst into laughter. I took my finger ,ran it down the kitchen counter and brought it to my mouth.

"Yummy, Iggy! Glad you're my teach,"

And after I personally scrubbed down every millimeter of the kitchen,Iggy decided that it was the end of todays lesson.


	3. Iggy Is Fired!

I was awoken by annoyingly being poked in the shoulder. Then a muffled giggle.

"Nudge! What gives," I said irritably. She pretended to be offended

"Fine I won't tell you what Iggy bought!" She tried to say angrily, but I could tell she was biting back a smile. With that she skipped out of the room. I threw my pillow at her back, and got a bulls-eye. She didn't even stop, I guess whatever Iggy got what amusing her too much. I groaned pulling my pillow over my head. When I woke up 4 hours later like a normal bird-kid I took a long hot shower. Barely bothering to dry my hair I pulled on a random hoodie and skinny jeans. Then I walked into the kitchen and saw Iggy. My expression made him burst into laughter. He was wearing a protective suit and a gas mask! A gas mask!

"Just kidding!" He was barely able to say through his laughter. I glared at him.

"Hey, I was just joking," He tried to reassure me.

"Really?"

"Yeah,"

"Then why aren't you taking off the suit?" Then we both burst into laughter "So what am I learning today?"

"We're watching this," He showed me a video about cooking safely. On the cover was a talking walrus. Oh my gosh. "Max, don't freak out, I don't think you're an idiot. It's just that anything involved with cooking absolutely despises you. I know you're smart and capable of a lot of things, it's just that well, cooking's not one of them,"

"This is absolutely ridiculous! Cooking doesn't hate me! I eat everyday, if that was true I would've choked on something and would've been killed,"

"Eating and cooking aren't the same thing. They're almost opposites,"

"Argh! I'm done with this! I'll teach myself how to cook!" I yelled at him and stormed out of the room. He seemed really upset at my outburst but I _swear_ I heard him breathe a sigh of relief.

Iggy's POV

I just wanted to help. I was suprised when she angrily yelled at me. Usually she was very level-headed. Then she started to stomp out of the kitchen. When I thought she was out of hearing range, I dared to breathe a sigh of relief. When we started doing the lessons, adrenaline pumped through me, just like before a fight. Ready to fight or flight at sign of danger. Yet I stayed. For Max. Now that I don't feel compelled to help her anymore I felt calm and safe which I haven't felt in a long time. I was though, very curious to see how Max would commit suici- I mean teach herself how to cook.

(First part too corny? If it is I can change it- Please review! No flames plz constructive critism is accepted- Btw I don't own Maximum Ride!)


	4. Cookbook

Max's POV

Where do you go when you have no idea how to do something? The internet. Once I got on I went straight to . I began to read.

_How to Learn How to Cook _was one of the listed articles. That looked promising. I moved my mouse over and clicked. I read the introduction. _"Mankind has been cooking since primitive times. "Cavemen" may have eaten cooked meat once, when a beast was destroyed in a forest fire, but usually they'd prefer to eat meat raw," _The introduction seemed unneccesary and extremly long so I just skipped over that to the next step.

_Step One: Find a Recipe (Optional)_

Kay, that seemed easy enough. Iggy keeps tons of cookbooks in the kitchen. One look at the title and I knew all these cookbooks were way too advanced for me. He must keep an ordinary cookbook somewhere! He has cooked a lot of ordinary food, spaghetti and burgers. But the only thing close to spaghetti was _Tortellini with Pork Loin. _Whatever the crap pork loin means. And the closest thing to a Big Mac was a picture of a buttery, moist steak, that looked like I could cut through it with my fork. It looked delish. Which is exactly why I can't make it. I don't have a low-self esteem or anything but I know what I am and am not capable of. I continued to rifle through the many cabinets. Oh that's where the paper clips are.

"You're not going to find any cookbooks here." I was so absorbed in finding a cookbook, I didn't even notice Angel coming up behind me. "Iggy memorizes all the easy recipes," Dang it. Oh well, step 1 was optional anyway. On to step 2!

_Step 2: Gather the ingredients. _Okay mikihow was officially stupid. Why would they say that finding a recipe was optional. Oh yeah, you might take the time to memorize the recipes like stupid Iggy!


	5. Chocolate Chip Cookies!

I grinded my teeth frustration. I heard Iggy chuckling behind me. I took of my flip-flop and threw it at him, he reached his hand out and caught it. _He's blind_ I thought. And yet, he has better coordination than most humans.

"I'm scowling at you right now, Iggy,"

"Didn't need sight to know that," He retorted.

"I'm thicking my thongue at thou thight naw," I said while sticking my tongue at him. I turned my back to him and thought about trying to Yoogle some recipes. What should I make? Ooh! I know! My favorite snack. Chocolate chip cookies! I saved the mikihow page and typed into Yoogle, _Awesome Chocolate Chip Cookie Recipe. _I clicked on the first link I saw: _.com_ I read the description:

_These cookies are perfection! Do you want the fluffy, chewy, chocolately chocolate chip cookies you get at bakeries? This recipe is for you!_

Descriptions can be decieving, so I scrolled down to the nearly 5,000 reviews.

_amyloveshorses543: Best cookies ever!_

_llamaslearnCpR: I'm lactose-intolerant yet I ate the whole dozen of cookies. It was too delicious. I'll leave the toilet eventually._

_cheeseisntblue1997: Cupcakes have nothing on these cookies. In a fight, the cookie would reach down the cupcakes throat, rip out its intestines and strangle the cupcake with them. GO CHUCK NORRIS!_

_pink22potato: I think my toe is infected, so these cookies made me feel better._

_lifeisworthless09: These cookies prevented me from commiting suicide. Its the best antidepressant. Besides crack._

It sounded perfect so I looked at the materials needed to make this recipe.

*1-1/3 cups all-purpose flour

*1/4 teaspoon baking soda

*1/4 teaspoon salt 1/2 cup unsalted butter, melted

*2/3 cup packed brown sugar

*1/3 cup white sugar

*2 teaspoons vanilla extract

*1 egg

*1 egg yolk

*$1-1/3 cups semisweet chocolate chips

I took out a pad of paper and wrote down the ingredients in a clumsy scrawl. I searched the cupboards. We had all the ingredients!

"FANG, ANGEL, IGGY, GAZZY, NUDGE. I'M GOING TO START COOKING NOW!" I yelled.

"I'm calling my insurance company," said Fang.

"I'll give you the number!" yelled Angel. Nudge rolled her eyes, walked up to me and started helping.

"You're helping me?" I asked, confused.

"I trust you,"

"Idiot," Iggy coughed. Nudge glared at Iggy.

"We'll show them," She murmured under her breath.


	6. Nudge's Idea

MAX'S POV

I was stirring the batter. Nothing destructive about that. As I was stirring the batter,Nudge was measuring out the vanilla extract. She walked over and drizzled some vanilla extract over the batter.

"Nudge?"

"Yeah?"

"How much vanilla extract did you put in?"

"Two tablespoons,"

"The recipe says teaspoons, Nudge! Teaspoons!"

"It's not that big of a difference," She answered nonchalantly. I stared at her incredously. Not a difference? Not that big of a difference! How could she say that? It made all the difference in the world! I had to make these cookies right or I would fail completely. And worse, Iggy would be right. I couldn't let that happen.

"Great. Now we have to start all over!"

"Why? What did you do?" She demanded.

"What did _I _do? Who's the one who isn't following the recipe? Huh?"

"The tablespoon-teaspoon thing?" She asked, puzzled. I nodded. "Max, a little thing like that isn't going to ruin the recipe," She rolled her eyes.

"Uh, see the picture?" I thrusted the recipe with a deliciously baked picture of a cookie in the corner. "That is how the cookie is supposed to look like, and it's not going to look like that if the utensils are wrong!" I exclaimed. "What if, instead of a stove, we use a fire. Like they did in the 70s. But that's not going to make a difference is it? What if, instead of using chocolate chips, we use cyanide! But it's not going to make a difference , because it's okay to tweak the recipe sometimes!" During the last couple sentences of my rant, Fang came in and stared at me.

"Max, I know you're mad at Iggy right now, but thats no reason to poison his food," He said, a smile playing at his lips. I rolled my eyes. "I thought Nudge was helping you," Puzzled, my eyes swept the kitchen, and Nudge had left. I frowned.

"Why did she leave?" I said, more to myself than to Fang.

"Yo Iggy," Fang called. Iggy darted over, smirking. "Here, Nudge left," Fang said grumpily, thrusting a 5$ bill into Iggy's hand.

"Really, you betted whether or not Nudge would leave me?"

"No, we betted whether or not Nudge would leave in less than 10 minutes," Iggy said, still smirking. I glared at them.

NUDGES POV

"Uh, see the picture?" Max thrusted the recipe with a deliciously baked picture of a cookie in the corner. "That is how the cookie is supposed to look like, and it's not going to look like that if the utensils are wrong!" She exclaimed. "What if, instead of a stove, we use a fire. Like they did in the 70s. But that's not going to make a difference is it? What if, instead of using chocolate chips, we use cyanide! But it's not going to make a difference , because it's okay to tweak the recipe sometimes!"

My mind started to process what she said about 2 seconds after she said them. I stared at her, a little scared when (to my relief) Fang came in. I used this oppurtunity to sneak out. I had to figure something out, so I went to my room and nestled myself in my bed to think for a while. One thing was for sure, we had to stop with Max's attempted cooking obsession. My mind listed things that would work, it was very limited. Then I came up with an idea. Well not exactly an idea, more of a ghost of an idea, a straw to grasp on. We had to convince Max to think she can cook. That was the only way, Max need her pride. She couldn't function without it. She needed to believe that she won this sick ,twisted game she had with Iggy. Now I needed a plan. I couldn't think of anything, so instead I listed the things that wouldn't work.

For one thing, I couldn't tell Iggy. Fang doesn't need to know. Angel is bound to find out anyway. Gazzy is really good with formulating plans so it would be wise to let him in. Okay, let the planning begin.


	7. Mi Pantolones Es En Fuego!

To the awesome people who have been following this story, I am so sorry I haven't updated in so long! I kinda forgot all my stories here on fanfic but I promise I'll update much more often- at least once every two weeks. Thanks to MelRose520 and CallMeBitter for all the nice reviews!

Disclaimer: I do not own the Maximum Ride Series

Nudge's POV

After much, much unneccesary, pacing (done for a dramatic touch), I finally formulated a plan. Now to sneak past the kitchen (where Max was still trying to cook, does she EVER need sleep?) to Gazzy's room. I got into crouching position and began to crawl out of my room and past the kitchen. I softly hummed the Pink Panther theme song, just because it felt sneaky.

"You know," Max suddenly started to say (giving me a heart attack too by the way!). "While humming that song increases stealth 50%, staying silent increases stealth 100%. Wat'cha up to Nudge?" Max whipped around, narrowing her eyes in suspicion. I froze like a deer in car tracks as those deep, accusing eyes stared me down. "Calm," I told myself. It's not like I wrote every single detail of my plan out on a piece of paper and left it obviously laid out on my desk. I left it under a paperweight laid out on my desk.

"Mi pantalones es en fuego! Aaaaaaah!" I blurted out. And while Max knit her brows in confusion for a second, I pushed down a lamp, breaking it, bolted out of the kitchen into Gazzy's room and barricaded the door with multiple boxes I found in his room.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, there are many explosive things in that box,"

Max's POV

What the-?

Gazzy's POV

"Gazzy? Can you help me with something?" I was immediately suspicious. Nudge almost never came to me for help.

"Why can't Fang, Max,Angel or Iggy help you?"

"Oh um, I just think you'd be the best person for this," She answered. I grinned mischeviously. The things I'm best at are making bombs.

"Okay so," she started rambling on."Max is obsessed with learning how to cook, so obsessed she's going crazy mad and Iggy takes this sick pleasure of seeing Max like this. So Max needs to think she can cook because of the whole stupid pride thing. You know, she really needs to get some humility because- anyway, you need to help me figure this out,"

"Well, she's going to attempt to bake cookies again tommorow ,because, inevitably, she will fail today. You could bake something cookies today and while Max's cookies are baking in the oven tommorow night, assuming she'll get that far of course, you could switch them," I advised her. Nudge grinned from ear to ear.

"That's genius! Except, how could I switch them?" Nudge mused. "She'll be obsessing over them while they bake. "Unless..."

"Unless...?" I asked curiously.

"Unless.. you distract her!"

"YES! Can I set the house on fire?" I asked, hopeful.

"No!" She snapped.

"Oh come on," I pleaded. "Max is probably going to do that by accident while cooking anyway!"

"No fire," said Nudge sternly.

"How about-"

"And no axes, ekus, flails, voulges, knives, maces, nun-chucks, pitchforks, swords, bludgeons, pointy crayons or any type of incendiary devices/ weapons/bombs," Nudge interrupted me.

"Well how about-"

"No catapults either," Nudge snapped, remembering my new medieval weapon obsession. Did she have to suck the fun out of _everything?_

"Paintballs?" I asked. She sighed in relief.

"Sure," She smiled. I sighed then searched through my axes, ekus, flails, voulges, knives, maces, nun-chucks, pitchforks, swords, bludgeons, pointy crayons, incendiary devices/ weapons/bombs, and found a simple, boring paintball gun. Oh well, she never said I couldn't modify the paintballs. I smirked, searching for my jar of sulfuric acid.


	8. The Plan

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Maximum Ride Series**

**Hey everyone! I know I haven't updated in a really long time. I sorry ****L I'm trying to update all my unfinished stories now. You can thank my best friends, who are posting amazing stories on fan fiction and making me feel guilty for not finishing what I started. If any of the people reading this are a House of Anubis fan I highly suggest reading the stories Jesus4eternity (my talented best friend!) has written. Or if you're a 39 clues fan read She Will Be Loved by ishmack97 (my other talented best friend!) Okay, I know you're tired of hearing me ramble. I'll start the chapter now J**

**Nudge's POV**

Today was the day. It was time to end this stupid war between Iggy and Max. I tiptoed in Gazzy's room. He looked so peaceful sleeping. So I poked him awake.

"Bleh…huh?" He cleverly said when one eye groggily opened.

"Wake up!" I said, hitting him in the arm with a pillow. "Max is going to be cooking soon," Gazzy rubbed his eyes, and brought himself up to a sitting position.

"I thought she wasn't going to cook until tonight," Gazzy said.

"She changed her mind. She told me last night. Apparently the reason she failed the last 'few' times is because she's a 'morning person'," I rolled my eyes at Max's lame excuse.

"Is your distraction ready?" I asked. Gazzy looked at me, amused.

"Have I ever failed in anything mischievous?" He said, in mock hurt. I shrugged, acknowledging the fact I might be freaking out over nothing.

"I guess you're right. All you had to do was set up your paintball gun, right?" I asked optimistically. Gazzy blinked.

"Right," He said, a bit too fast. Liar. I was prepared to interrogate him about, when I heard someone padding down the hallway. When you live with a group of people for a certain amount of time, you begin to recognize their footsteps. I recognized these footsteps as Max's. Suddenly I remembered something very important.

"Crap!" I blurted. Gazzy raised an eyebrow at me.

"You know that batch of cookies I baked yesterday so I could switch it out with Max's today?" "Yeah?"

"They are in the kitchen. In the oven! Max sees those then the plan's screwed," I said worriedly to Gazzy. But he wasn't listening. He climbed out of bed and picked up a lethal-looking paintball gun.

"Guess we'll have to use this earlier than planned," Gazzy winked. Than dashed out the door. I grabbed his arm.

"Wait! We need that distraction for when I switch her cookies for mine," I said. Gazzy sighed.

"Fine, I'll just go distract her some other way then,"

**Gazzy's POV**

"Fine, I'll just go distract her some other way then," By other way, I didn't mean anything exciting involving semi-dangerous weapons. I distracted Max the way they would do it on a made-for-tv Disney movie. I talked to her. I ran out into the hallway and grabbed Max's arm urgently.

"What?" She asked.

"I need to talk to you about something," I said.

"Yeah, I got that. What?" She asked.

"I…" What couldn't I think of anything? I'm an excellent liar. Right, I can't think because its 6am in the freaking morning! "I'm sick," I coughed.

"Well that explains why you're up so early," She said, there was an undertone to her voice. Gazzy couldn't figure it out.

"Exactly!" I said, hoping my relief wasn't too evident on my face. "I couldn't sleep!" I added. Max _tsked _at him.

"What's in that paintball gun, Gazzy? Medicine?" Max asked. _Well, crap._

**Nudge's POV**

Okay, so Gazzy in the morning is useless. I made that mental note, sitting in my room, while I absentmindedly munched on one of my cookies. Luckily, I only needed Gazzy to distract Max for a few seconds while I ran into the kitchen and whipped the cookies out of the oven. Now all I had to do was wait. Wait for Max to cook until the part where she puts her cookies into the oven. I waited all of five seconds before Max marched into my room. I took the tray of cookies and shoved it under my bed just before Max opened the door. Max stood there smirking, with Gazzy standing next to her.

"Gazzy told me all about his little plan," Max sang. I glared daggers at Gazzy. I was about to scream at him when I noticed something. His eyes were wide, but not in a guilty way, more like he was trying to tell me something. I held my tongue.

"So I guess you owe me," Max said. I eyed Max cautiously.

"Why? What was this 'plan' exactly?" I tried to sound casual.

"He said he was going to shoot his paintball gun, all over your room. Ruining all your things. Apparently you pissed him off earlier, insulting his pranking skills or something? So this would be the ultimate way to prove you wrong. Luckily I stopped him before he did anything," Max said. _Nice one, Gazzy! _I thought. I then realized I was grinning, goofily happy I didn't get caught. Max stared at me.

"I'm so happy…that you caught him before he did any damage," I said. "I do owe you one," I said, smiling at Max. Max smiled back. It was such a sweet, genuine smile I almost immediately felt the guilt rising in my throat.

"Well you're in luck because you can pay me back right now," She stood. "You can help me make the cookies… if that's okay," She added apologetically. She seemed almost guilty. About what? Maybe for freaking out on us the last few days.

"Sure," I said, my voice cracking. I couldn't say no to that face! "Just give me a sec, I'll meet you in the kitchen," Max nodded, and walked out of my room. After she left I shut the door softly and turned to Gazzy.

"Okay so slight change of plans. I'm going to need you to fire the paintball guns _and _switching the cookies ,because I won't get-"

"No," Gazzy interrupted her.

"What?" I asked.

"I'm already in trouble because of this Nudge. I covered for you and now Max is already pissed off at me and you won't me to do _more_?" Forget it, I'm out," He said and then marched out.

I slumped into my bed. What now? Gazzy was an essential part of the plan. The plan. The plan that would end this stupid war. The plan that was supposed to get everything back to normal. The plan that would fix everything. Now what will I do? I ran through my head a bunch of ridiculous plans that would never work. A bunch of schemes that were doomed to failure. I might attempt one though. I was desperate. After wallowing self-pity for a few moments an atrocious idea crept it's way into my head. _What if? _I thought. _What if I just baked the cookies with Max?_


End file.
